The Ghost That Lives in Her
by FaeGlow
Summary: A Nabokavian Snape sees his beloved Lily Evans in a First Year Ginny Weasley...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So after reading and re-reading Vladimir Nabokav's classic, "Lolita". An idea sparked in my little head. In many ways, pedophilia on Humbert Humbert's part aside, he and Severus Snape are actually quite similar. Humbert Humbert lost Annabel, the love of his love, when he was just a boy. He grew into adulthood trying to find her again and he finally did in a "nymphet" named Dolores Haze. This sparked an inappropriately strong love and obsession for what was, in reality, just a child. Severus Snape lost Lily Evans, the only person that he ever truly loved. In his later years he desperately yearned to seek forgiveness for the friendship he destroyed and for a life that he believed was taken away because of him. From a Nabokavian standpoint, it would only be logical that those memories of seeing Lily for the first time would be brought back to life upon laying eyes on a certain little Ginevra Weasley. I will try to keep "squicky" scenes out at all cost but if this still isn't your thing or if Snape/Ginny grosses you out, don't read any further. If not then enjoy! 

* * *

><p>I'd be willing to forget most of the nights that I've seen first years get sorted, but seeing Ginevra Weasley for the first time would never be one of them. Among the gaggle of dirty-faced, snot-nosed little brats…there she was. Her vision made my otherwise stoic and emotionless breath hitch in the depths of my lungs. <em>Lily….. <em>The name of my lost beloved ghosted across my lips before I could stop myself. I suddenly felt like that broken little boy I was so long ago.

The memory of my dearest soaring through the air from that swing set reflected in the little one's eyes, which were brown instead of green. That was the only thing different about the two. It was also the only thing that kept me from getting up from my seat and rushing to her so that I could sweep her into my arms. The urge to do so was still strong regardless. I had to make the greatest of efforts to keep my lips from trembling. _Beautiful girl….beautiful, beautiful girl! I never meant to hurt you, my little fae! _I was already going mad; hopelessly unable to avert my eyes from the youngest Weasley. Then-as if the cruelest of gods was toying with my current emotional frailty-her eyes met mine. It was a mere, slight second yet one of the most significant seconds of my otherwise loathsome and pitiable life.

The following day was just as hard to get through as the night was. As per usual, the First Years were my beginning class of the day. It was an entire repeat of the Sorting Ceremony: I could not keep my eyes off of Ginny Weasley. The way she held her face in her hand out of boredom and fatigue, the way she brushed the tip of her quill against her chin—everything about her was what Lily used to be. She would have been openly yelled at for not paying attention due to my tradition of embarrassing every Weasley on their first say of school, but I just couldn't do it. She was so painfully much like my Lost Lily. It was as close as I could come to having her back again: a thing I wished for every day and night since she died.

Before I laid eyes on little Ginevra I was convinced that having my best friend back would be quite the wonderful thing. But, alas, it was indeed not. I had so much to say to my Ghost. I knew this girl wasn't the adorable, tiny Lily Evans I remember from my own first year at Hogwarts. It wasn't a complete, wishful delusion yet the fact that this child wasn't my dead best friend made wanting to tell her all the things I couldn't tell Lily all the more strong. Of course I did attempt to tell Lily how much I loved her but by the time I did…it was much too late. She had lost her love for me completely; my Lily was head over heels for James Potter. No longer did she sit next to me in every class, no longer did she tell me her secrets or what troubled her in everyday life. James split us apart-something that was even more vile than the countless times he humiliated me every chance he got.

In my eyes this was a second chance. I could never forgive myself for hurting Lily—no matter how much _her _James hurt me. Perhaps she even sent Ginny to me, as some sort of intangible sign that she could still accept my forgiveness. Weasley or not, the child bore too many similarities to the only person I ever truly loved. Her eyes now appear green to me. That unadulterated and pure shade of emerald instead of the light brown they actually were. Her nose held the same shape as Lily's did, her skin an exact replica of that fair peachy complexion covered with freckles that I so mourn for. Ginny's hair-just as red and passionate-was cut in a childish bob, so close to the haircut Lily had when we were eleven.

Another thing struck me about this Ginny Weasley: she didn't look at me the same way the others did. There was nervousness, yes, but no fear or disgust. If I knew any better, she acknowledged me as a human being and—more importantly—her professor. Merlin only knows the stories her older brothers have told her about me. Those twins have most likely informed her that I resembled a giant bat because of my black robes and that my nose was larger than any they had ever seen before. _Ronald_ would tell her that I was a mean, old greasy git who had never heard of the word "bath". I didn't need to hope that she didn't believe her brothers. She told me clearly with her expression that she didn't find me to be some sort of revolting monster that deserved to be disrespected and ignored.

She regarded me with undeniable sincerity! What was I to do? All these years of living without Lily grew me into the soulless humbug I am known as today. Yet lo and behold! Here was this crystalline beacon of red-haired hope just when I was ready to retire all of my humanity. How could this have been coincidental? I cannot even tell you if any other student had ever LOOKED at me the way that Ginevra Weasley had. You see, I really had no other choice but to return her kindness. I was not going to do it in front of this class or out in the open. Oh, no! That would be much too dangerous and a complete risk to my reputation. It would have to be a moment when there was no one else breathing the air except for only us. But when would this be? Hours? Days? Weeks? My poor and beaten brain couldn't even bear to think about it. On with today's lessons.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N_: The second chapter! Yayayayayayayayaya! Just one kind and very immediate review was all that I needed to get on with this fic so thank you reviewer! :D Please note though that I have no beta reader for this story so grammar may get slightly wonky and errors are bound to occur as the chapter progresses. While writing the intro I wasn't going to really have Ginny be the Lolita to Snape's Humbert, but the more I think about it the more it makes sense. She is, for the most part, how Nabokav described a perfect nymphet. Let's not forget how many boyfriends she went through during her Hogwarts years! Okay. Enough babble. On with le story. 

_September 5__th__, 1992_

_Friday_. I've gotten through the entire week still alive. Still not completely ruined by my never-ceasing thoughts about the littlest Weasley. _Monday_. She bites her lip while trying to concentrate in her first Potions class. _Tuesday_. She twirls her delicate wild red hair around her quill. _Wendsday_. She sneaks glances of other girls in her class and makes mental notes about them. _Thursday_. She hikes her skirts up slightly beneath her robes to scratch an itch on her outer thigh. As a professor, I know good and well that I should not think this much about a student, let alone a First Year. The weak and wounded creature in me-however-knows I cannot stop. Ginny Weasley is indeed an insidious little one. An ordinary person would look at her and see nothing but a child. Alas, I am no ordinary person. In her, I see divinity; a reincarnation (if you will) of my perfect Lily Evans.

There is also an almost eerie side to this Ginevra Weasley. Something that I didn't see the first time I saw her at the beginning of the week. I very well may be mad, but I cannot shake that she knows my so-very-secret yearnings for departed Lily. Her movements in class are not that of an oblivious child. They are calculated—made to make things such as cleaning out her cauldron at the end of class a torturous recollection of how Lily would perform the same task. I was on the verge of insanity! Never had I thought about any of my students in such a way! Severus Snape was known for hating his students and all little children alike. How could only one drive him into obsession? The answer was Ginny Weasley, the living memory of a Lily Evans that I knew and loved so long ago.

Classes, thank Merlin, had ended for the day and Hogwarts was filled with bustling students who were ready to retire for the evening. Third Years and up were making plans for Hogsmeade while younger (and very hungry) students chatted about what they should feast upon tonight when dinner was served in the Great Hall. Wild students, particularly First Years, ran a mock through the corridors and up and down stairwells. These students were the happiest of all that their long day of classes was finally over... And these students were of course the kind I hated most of all.

Snape the Hobgoblin pushed and shoved his way through crowds of students, hissing his usual threats as he did so. I had no tolerance for my pupils, during or after classes. After much struggle I made it to a relatively deserted corridor that looked out upon one of the courtyards that the castle had to offer. What a perfect place this would be to observe little Ginny! Surely she would love to lounge about on the moist courtyard grass while going over homework! I quickly try to get rid of that thought. _She is not Lily, she is not Lily! _I repeat the silent mantra in my mind. This is madness and it has to stop. I cannot possibly go on teaching at this damned school if all I think about is _Ginny_.

"NO RUNNING IN THE CORRIDORS, GIRLS! YOU KNOW THE RULES!"

At the sudden and booming voice of one Minerva McGonagall I give an invisible smirk. I am ready to turn around and stop these stupid little troublemakers right in their chaotic tracks. When I turn on my booted heel, it is not what I see at all. What I see is glorious. Nothing short of unadulterated rapture! Ginny, _beautiful little Ginny_, was gleefully leading a gaggle of First Year girls in a stampede through the corridor.

The others pale in comparison to her; they are nothing more than a mere billow of skirts and robes. It is she who has my wickedly rapt attention. Petite pigtails bounce at either side of her head and are the flawless compliment to the grin on her face. I then realize she wasn't leading the said-stampede at all. In her little left hand she clutched a black-leathered thing that appeared to be a diary. So these brats wanted to know her deepest secrets and weren't purely playing a game at all! Yet I did nothing. I, in my sardonic manner, leaned back against a corridor pillar and watched the marvelous scene. How very un-typical of Severus Snape not to stop rule breaking in its tracks! After all, an acceptation had to be made for Ginny Weasley. Minerva eventually stopped trying to chase them and came to catch her breath at my side. I could not even give her a second's glance as I was much too transfixed on that firey-haired sprite. Right before my eyes I saw Ginevra turn into my Lily. Lily indeed ran through the castle…just like this. Minerva began to talk to me but I willingly did not hear her, for Ginny had already started to speak amongst her little friends as they slowed their running yards ahead of me:

"C'mon, then! Let us read! What was your dream about?"

"Fat bloody chance!" Even in her vulgarisms, Ginny's voice was still precious.

"Lame-o, lame-o mooncalf shit! Sucking on the goblin's tit!"

Their voices burst into laughter at one girl's absurd rhyme. While it was all good and hilarious to them, they had no idea how much it haunted me. Images of a teenaged Severus Snape hiding in the shadows just to listen to his Lily Evans giggle amongst her friends tore at my heart. Yes, I still do have a heart. It may be cold and shriveled but it is still there for Lily's sake…and now for Ginny's.

"Those girls are entirely out of control! That Weasley girl will be the death of this school! Severus? Are you listening, Severus?" 

No, I am not dearest Minerva. I am not.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: _Part three! Whoohoo! Thank you, Sinister Spiders for commenting on Part Two! I was worried that it was not written as well as Part One was! I like that you commented on the cameo of Tom's diary. As this is Ginny's first year, I am not going to neglect the horrors that she endured while under the power of this particularly nasty horcux. As AU as it may be, it is still set during CoS. PS: If anyone was wondering, no, I am not going by movieverse. This is purely bookverse and therefore my Snape will not be described with Alan Rickman qualities. In fact, I actually saw Crispin Glover in my head as Snape while reading the books! LOL! Oh yeah, this part contains both Lockhart and thoughts of him committing child molestation. Be warned.

* * *

><p><em>September 10th, 1992<em>

Something is wrong with Ginny. I've sensed this only two days ago; her light that all children have is gone. She no longer plays with her friends and she sits at the very back of the classroom. The detail that I am most worried about is that diary. Miss Weasley writes in it every night when dinner is served. I study her from the staff's table at the front of the Great Hall—she is much too endorsed in that little book. One part of my brain is furious, the other is ill with a feeling I cannot describe. So many explanations could be given to explain the sudden change in behavior. The little girl started out very much liked by her classmates and then, one day, she appeared to have nothing to do with them. I set my vulture's glare upon damnable Gilderoy Lockhart for a moment. He is in between flirting with himself in a stupid hand mirror and winking at his doting fan girls whom he seems to forget are his students. This, to me, sets off alarms.

Is it so mad of me to automatically assume the worst? I went to Hogwarts with this blond-headed twit and I know what he is capable of. The very fact that he became the new professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts enraged me. This egotistical, sexual fool had no business being a professor! Here Ginevra Weasley was—showing all the signs of an abused child that she had not displayed previously—and here Gilderoy Lockhart was, returning affections openly to his underage students! Oh, Severus! You idiot! You hypocrite! _You _are the one having impure, quite obsessive thoughts over a First Year student! Is it not _you _who is the monster in this picture?

Severus, can you not see that YOU are a thirty-two-year-old man secretly desperate for an eleven-year-old girl! But…I have never even laid a freakishly long, skeletal finger on her. The very act of looking at her for too much time frightens me. Gilderoy…he would not care. I have witnessed him viciously hurting girls during our years at Hogwarts and the idiot got away with it every time. He was confident now, so confident that he probably thought he could get away with touching a child. Yet the horrible, terrible truth was that nobody would believe an accusation against Gilderoy Lockhart that came from Severus Snape. Minerva would scoff. Albus would tell me not to act like a jealous fool. I was alone on this matter, and it would be up to me and me alone to find out what was wrong with Ginny Weasley.

I swallow the remaining food I have in my mouth painfully and resume eating the rest of my supper. Tonight I would approach Ginny for the very first time. I would make sure of it. The girl was obviously tormented and I needed to know what was the cause of it!

It is quite late at night now. Precisely around twelve-o-clock and all students have returned to their dormitories. The castle itself while quiet, sill cannot find sleep for a Severus Snape roams its many staircases and corridors in search of Miss Ginevra Weasley. Before her polar change in personality Miss Weasley had proven to be quite the troublemaker, clearly taking after her brothers. If I were lucky tonight, I would find her and possibly Lockhart too. The Lockhart aspect proved that I had no such luck; he was much too busy minding his own business and signing fan letters to be found by me. It is rather dark in the specific area of the castle I am in; I retract my wand. A soft "Lumos" is uttered under my breath. I hear footsteps ahead of me….little footsteps. My throat tightens as I advance upon the sound, coming to find the back of a quite-small red-haired girl. _Ginny_. A soft weeping noise radiates from her and it nearly kills me…._Lily, don't cry, Lily!_

"Miss…Miss Weasley- " Ah, formalities!

_Sob. Sniffle._

"Miss Weasley you are aware that it is past curfew?"

I try so hard to sound like the Snape that make First Years quiver and shake in fear but it sounds so very wrong when being directed towards her. _I'm sorry, Lily! I did not mean to call you a Mudblood!_I sigh, stepping closer to her so that I can turn her around with my free hand. The very first time I have touched her. Ever. It makes my throat tighten. Her face is the picture of sorrow; a reflection of Lily's the night she spoke to me for the very last time. There is no naughty, lively little witch standing before me. It is a hurting child. I have to stop myself from catching a tear that is falling down her creamy cheek. I need to be a professor tonight and an adult she can confide in without fear. But oh, how beautiful she is in the light from my wand!

"You aren't in any trouble…but…Ginevra—Ginny! You have not been yourself lately...if anyone has been hurting you…anyone at all—you must tell. Please—Tell me, Ginny!"

Odd it indeed is to hear a soft, comforting tone coming from the voice of Severus Snape. I do not know what else to do; it had been so long since I had displayed kindness and that kindness was only for one person. The eleven-year-old Weasley looks up at me in at first terror and distrust. Ginny is more than likely assuming that Professor Snape had never, EVER approached a student with the desire to help them and she would be right!

"I…they called me weird. My friends…guess they're not my friends now. Wilda Wagner said that I wasn't to sit next to them at the Gryffindor table anymore."

I felt my stomach drop. Perhaps Lockhart did not have anything to do with this after all. I remove my hand from her shoulder, which had been there longer than it needed to be and gave her a sympathetic look. She straightens her mouth and wipes at the tears in those brown eyes with the back of her hand.

"Now, I must order you to return to your dormitories and retire to bed, Miss Weasley. If you wish, I will walk with you."

I was waiting for her answer to be a silent shake of the head but to my surprise she nodded. We turned around together, making our way back silently by the light gleaming from the tip of my wand. Silently and without warning Ginny took my hand. I froze. What was I to do? I looked down at her in a curious form of shock only to receive a tiny smile from her. As much as I wanted to pull my hand away…I couldn't. It reminded me too much of how Lily would hold my hand. I wanted this to last as long as it could. I continued walking with the Weasley girl, leading her into a much more familiar and well-lighted area of the Castle. We were quite near the Great Hall, actually. I muttered a quick "Nox" and slipped my wand back into its scabbard. Gently I slipped my hand out of hers and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"I cannot walk with you any further, I hope you understand this. Goodnight, Miss Weasley."

My voice is choking and I am powerless to stop it from doing so. She did not give me a look of confusion but did the unthinkable. Ginevra Weasley hugged me. Right on the spot, for anyone could see. I let out an involuntary gasp and I felt ancient tears well up in my black eyes. I had to force them to behave; crying in front of a student would be most unprofessional. While hugging her back could cost me my job if anyone were to pass by (Merlin forbid Lockhart!), I returned her affection anyways. The hug was a short-lived one for she separated from me and darted off towards the Gryffindor tower before I knew what was happening. For what it was worth, I would cherish it for the rest of my life. I watched as Ginny bounded off, reminding me of a doe that has haunted my thoughts and dreams for years. _Thank you, Ginny Weasley…_


End file.
